Your World's Name
by Just A Realistic Dreamer
Summary: I'm watching you, hidden while you train alone under the moon's eye. You don't know that I'm looking at you and that my thoughts follow the rythm of your attacks and your parries. A KandaCentric oneshot, as seen by Lenalee. Not mine! Translation


_This is a translation of the French fic "Le nom de ton monde" by Oceanna__ (great fic. Seriously). _

_You can find the original in my favorites _

… _That's pretty much it._

_Enjoy! _

_**Y**__**our World's Name**_

It's night, and you're not sleeping. I'm not, either. On the contrary, I'm watching you, silently, and you don't know it. I watch you from afar, because I know that if I come closer, you'll feel my presence. And then I couldn't look at you when I'm suffering from insomnia anymore.

You're training alone, and the night's quietness is only broken by your sword's hushed song. Your sword is your arm, you are your sword, Mugen is your being. And you sing death and blood's song with Mugen, gracefully, giving nobility to death. You know that, in reality, there's nothing noble in death, and you know even better that the beauty of these deathly fights is no more than an illusion, merely savagery, bloodshed, slaughter. I don't want to know. Not yet. There will never be a good moment to accept it…

_You're eighteen and you know death. _

_You're eighteen and you want to forget life._

In your eyes, there's the bitterness of broken dreams, the bitterness of knowing the world is cruel and unforgiving. You have the stony composure of those who don't believe anymore, of those who know death is always ugly, always an end, and that humanity will always find another despicable act to commit.

You now despise the clarity of distant utopias. Your universe is made of night, where only the moon can follow you. Your universe is frozen darkness, like you, and like it you froze your heart, sharpened your words and relied solely on your will. You're an exterminator. Worse than a machine, you know how to think, talk and cause pain consciously. But you think you are only will: that's why you despise the death that cannot descend on you with its sharp scythe. And I must be mad to find some kind of beauty to this world you let us catch a glimpse of.

You bear disdainful hatred, born from jealousy towards those who still believe. They're naïve, blind, passionate, emotional, indecisive, and lose their time with compassion and guilt. They're… People like me.

_You won't admit you admire them_.

The one you call "stupid rabbit", who hides his knowledge under his spontaneity, the "beansprout" who still believes he can save everyone. And you told me once that you admired me, that day when I found shelter from Levellier beside you. And sometimes, I see in your eyes the questions you ask yourself before forgetting them: where do we find that strength that keeps us hoping, that allows us to go past our limits, to stand up again? I don't know what to answer, Kanda, if only that you stand up and hope, too. I know it. Where do we find that energy that is neither pride, hatred nor greed? We didn't have to freeze our hearts, and we can love. I don't know of any other answer. That's what forces us to keep our humanity despite the bitter reality of Akumas –we are killing humans!-, despite death that threatens us every moment, me and all my loved ones. But, Kanda, I couldn't fight like I do if I didn't love, and I couldn't help the ones dear to me. That's why, no matter what happens to me, I'll fight until the end. If I didn't, it would be senseless to have so much blood on my hands, to have shed so many tears… Without it, I would be nothing but a burden. I don't have your strength, the one that pushes you to live even though you know that you're empty and that you don't have anything to hold on to.

You learned how to really fight the day your heart turned to stone. The day when you became less than human and close, so close, to Akumas. The day you understood you were merely a machine destined to follow your superiors' orders without worrying about the whole plan. You did everything to act that way. I know. I know you since the day you arrived to HQ, do you remember? You don't know why I didn't guess anything, or rather, why I act as if I hadn't guessed anything. Why I smile for you just as I smile for the others. You don't know why Lavi keeps calling you by your first name, even though to yourself you are simply Kanda now. Half a name for half a man, that's how things are. Why Allen keeps arguing with you, still complains honestly about your disdain, looks at you as if you could still change. But, Kanda, you are still human. I know. You protect us in your own way, probably because you're too embarrassed to admit it. You know, even when Nii-san came, I had the habit of relying on you, because you didn't say anything, didn't ask anything.

You don't want to believe it, but your heart unfroze at our touch, and we slipped inside to try and fill it a bit more with our warmth, our ray of sun. Because you're a comrade, Kanda, a friend. We won't leave you alone. _I _won't leave you alone.

And I know your universe became a gray dawn, because someday you discovered that you couldn't stand your room's icy loneliness, because you discovered you could miss us. You hated yourself after that. I remember, because you were worse than usual that week, and you didn't talk to me at all. And especially because you were so angry against yourself that I heard you muttering while you trained.

Of course, you'd rather die than admit it. And we act a bit as if we hadn't understood, or else you'd flee again. And you'd hide in the darkness that surrounds you. But you keep our light; it's already enough, even though most of the time you still rage against the world and life… Sometimes, your anger dulls by itself.

And it scares you because your unshakable heart of stone is becoming tender …

It's also because your world's name is loss and absence. And you know when it began. I know it too, because I entered Nii-san's office, pretending to clean up, and found your file, cold and to the point.

Your sister, sweet Umi, who, as her name suggested, had been only a wave, just born and already gone. Your sister, with her lovely hair, her games and her childishly innocent cruelty, who was sick too soon and died too soon, like an extinguished candle. There was an old faded photograph beside yours. I wish I had a sister like her.

Your father, distant then Akuma

Your mother, his first victim.

Your master, who taught you all about illusions, then left you Mugen and a cursed tattoo.

And now, what we all go through. The Exorcists who fall in battle. You don't mourn them, because tears are useless and can't bring the dead back to life. Since then, I cry for both of us, Kanda, because I believe every tear we don't shed burns our heart and that they have to get out someday. I cry for both of us and you understood, Kanda, because I'm the only one whose tears you don't rebuke.

However, I know you think about all these deaths, Daisya's for example. And it's the same questions I perceive: why him and not you? Why the life he loved and not the one you don't care about? Why him, who'd be mourned and not you, whom no one would miss? Why not you? You, half monster tainted by blood and darkness? I don't know how to tell you you're wrong, Kanda, and that we would all cry if you disappeared, that we'd feel orphaned without you to rebuff us, to remind us that the world is harsh, to force us to face reality…

And while I'm looking at you, while you dance with Mugen the exquisite savagery of blood and death, I know your sword's song says that your world's name is absence but also that we fill it, that we warm your soul, that we will keep trying to free you from the darkness that surrounds you. I will persist, even though it might all be in vain. Your sword also sings your will to protect us so we don't disappear as well...

You think we don't know you want to protect what's left of our purity and foolish hope, because you don't want us to end up like you. I won't tell you that you're wrong, because, selfishly, I want you to protect me a little longer…

And I watch you fight the wind during my sleeplessness, as you dance death and blood under the moon's aloof eye and the puppet shadow scenery. I know that your dance is a promise, that your dance is a word: protect.

And while that word still resonates of bloodshed and savagery, it is better than fighting alone.

Mugen whistles appreciatively to your ear, and I smile in my dark corner.

Perhaps, someday, it will be our turn to protect and save you…

_Sooo… That was my first attempt at translating something. _

_Hope you liked it!_

_Please review? If not for me, then for Oceanna x) _


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